


After

by captaincastle



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-25
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-09 09:38:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13478712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captaincastle/pseuds/captaincastle
Summary: With the help of some white roses, Karen realizes her affections for Frank. Maybe with the same white roses Frank will see Karen's affections for him in return.





	1. I want there to be an after

Karen pulls her coat a little tighter in the cool air, she’s on her way home from work. Another long but normal day.

Not much in her life ever changes. Horns honk, sirens blare, and she walks briskly across the crosswalks. Even when a homeless man asks her for change, she’s not fazed.

Hearing her name from the lips of the man though, that, is not something she expected. 

And just like that Frank Castle is back in her life. 

She certainly wasn’t expecting to see him today. Or anytime soon for that matter. She had no clue when she’d see him. And now he’s asking if they can talk? 

Frank follows quietly behind Karen to her place. It’s strange but not unwelcome to let this man into her apartment. 

She offers him a drink, and they make light chit chat about hipsters. The last time she saw him, he was on a rooftop. The last time she spoke to him, he saved her life, but he slammed a door in her face. Now he’s joking about having a man bun. 

But she’s frustrated at him. She’s not forgotten how things had ended with them. She knows he’s not forgotten either. 

He tells her that someone knows he’s alive, and that he needs her help finding him. That’s not shocking to Karen. What is surprising is Frank pulling a vase of flowers from his backpack.

The flowers are white and elegant, and yet are not damaged or crushed after being in Frank’s care. 

He thanks her, and something about seeing him brings tears to her eyes. Quickly she stands to hug him, her arms wrap tight around his neck. 

Frank’s strong chest presses against hers, Karen squeezes onto him tight. She needed this hug as much as he did. The embrace is long overdue, and she can’t deny it feels good. 

He hugs her back, and she thinks of the white flowers on her table. This hug is warm and she feels safe in his care. Over a year has passed since she has seen Frank. Seeing him is a comfort she didn’t know how badly she needed. She lost her friend Matt a few months ago, she knows how dangerous the vigilante lifestyle is. Knowing Frank is safe eases her mind. 

She pulls away quickly as if embarrassed, and when the hug ends, they exchange goodbyes. 

And he’s gone again. 

The room suddenly feels uncomfortably empty. It’s just been her in that new apartment for so long. Foggy has come over on occasion, but it’s rare. Frank didn’t seem to fit in her apartment, yet somehow he did. Most people who think they know Frank, think they know the Punisher, aren’t so quick to deal out hugs and give him a beer in their homes. To her, he’s the gentle, heartbroken man she’s come to know. Maybe flowers in the window is a little old fashioned, but she’d rather be given flowers by him for a purpose, than lied to by “good” men. 

Murderous former marine vigilante in her home? A fleeting thought passes through her mind, maybe he’s exactly what her apartment needs. 

But he’s gone, and all that’s left are the flowers and the memory of his body pressed against hers. 

Going on about her life, she does the necessary digging for Frank. She’s happy to. It’s actually become a bit of a thrill. It’s a secret they share, and though she has a lot of secrets, this is one she won’t struggle with hiding. Lots of her journalism works aren’t ones the public is aware of. 

It’s not long before Karen has news for Frank. And as requested, she puts the flowers in the window. She doesn’t think much of it, she’s helping out an old friend. 

Friend?

Is that what he is to her? 

They meet on a bench and she catches him up on information about Micro. She’d been happy to help at first, but now she feels reluctant. Frank’s safety is a concern for her. And she knows Frank’s habits. She doesn’t want to enable him if she can help it. 

“Be careful,” she tells him. She wants to see him again, and she tells him that too. They exchange small smiles and he thanks her. Again Karen watches him leave, not knowing when she’ll see him again. 

Friend or more - she enjoys his company. The familiarity of him around brings her comfort. His absence had been felt. 

She thinks about him on her walk back to her empty apartment. She thinks about his man bun joke from the other day and smiles to herself. She didn’t laugh when her first told it, but now that she thinks about it, she smiles. A man bun would not work for him. But the beard is working well. 

She misses him. She misses Matt. She misses Foggy. Foggy is too busy, Matt is gone. But Frank - he’s back, and with him came all her feelings she’d pushed aside. Grieving for Matt had blurred these feelings. 

Hugging Frank and hearing his voice brought more feelings she hadn’t anticipated. 

Loneliness is strong tonight.

Her dinner that night is cheap, but she breaks out some of her more expensive wine. She drinks a glass too many, and without thinking puts the flowers in the window. There’s no information to give him - but she needs to see him. 

A headache sends her to bed, she wakes an hour later very groggy. In her embarrassment, she takes down the flowers and hopes Frank didn’t see. 

But it was too late. 

A knock on the door sent a sick feeling straight to her gut. Her cheap dinner threatens to make it’s way up her throat. 

Karen opens the door and sees Frank in his Punisher vest. She’s about to ask why, because she’d just told him she didn’t want him killing anyone, and that she wants him to be safe. But here he is in his vest. Before she can open her mouth to speak, Frank reaches for her. 

His arms wrap tight around her waist and kisses her with fierce passion. His vest presses against her, and his beard tickles her lips. She moans into his mouth as his hand slips under her shirt. 

The next thing Karen knows is Frank has her laid out on the bed. He slips off her skirt and panties and his head is between her legs. The beard is brushing against her thighs. Her foot is pressing against his vest clad shoulder, and her fingers tug on his curls. 

For a moment she sees his eyes, dark and full of passion. His hands hold her thighs as his mouth moves. 

With a gasp she wakes from her dream. A sheen of sweat is on her brow and her neck. Her skin is deeply flushed. She’d fallen asleep on her couch. 

Maybe she’d had more wine than she thought. 

Quickly she looked in her window to make sure the flowers were NOT resting on the sill. 

“OH THANK GOD,” she gasps seeing the flowers weren’t in the window. 

With a massive headache, and an ache of longing between her legs, she fell on her bed. Karen didn’t take the time to change clothes. Resulting in her waking with a crumpled skirt and shirt. 

Her headache is gone, but that other ache still burns. 

Whatever feelings she has for Frank have turned. She feels a very real crush forming in addition to how deeply she cares for his well-being. 

Shit. 

‘This ‘crush’ isn’t new is it?’ she thinks. 

She continues to dig for him, and when she comes across some information, her office seems to increase in temperature. 

Nothing else enters her mind on her way home that afternoon. Her face is flush, her heart skips a little when she sets the flowers in her apartment window. 

The next time she sees Frank, his beard is gone. In a way, she’s grateful. Her knees might have buckled under her at the sight of him. 

Her heart aches now as Frank tells her a story about his son. She starts to sniffle and the words spill out of her faster than she can think. 

“My heart breaks,” she cries. Frank’s lonely, she’s lonely. His loneliness is just easier to see. "I want there to be an after!" 

She tries to tell him how she could help, but he tells he can’t let anything happen to her. Karen’s heart catches in her throat. So her feelings of worry for him are matched by his worry for her. 

Then he does it. 

Frank kisses her cheek. His lips press to her cold rosy cheek, and she feels the burn when he pulls away. She felt a slight scratch of stubble and that sent her heart fluttering. The imagery from her dream is still too fresh. 

Over the next few weeks Karen sees Frank a handful of times. 

They talk on the phone briefly. Hearing his voice aches her heart, though she’s frustrated with him.

Then, he saves her life, again, in a hotel. Frank talks her through disarming a bomb, and she shoots the bomber the foot. 

Though she disarmed the bomb, the bomber detonates it in the cooler of the hotel kitchen. Frank pushes her aside to save her from the blast. His large hand cradles her face to check on her. 

The last time Karen sees Frank is in the hotel elevator. They decide and agree together to have Frank hold his gun to Karen’s chin. He holds her tight, and though the cops see the Punisher holding his hostage with an iron grip, Karen sees it’s the gentle Frank Castle holding her tight to keep her safe. 

She’ll never be able to tell anyone of what he’s done for her. Saved her life, given her flowers. Hell, he even kissed her cheek. The public sees the death surrounding him and there’s no openness in their hearts to forgive him. They don’t even realize the pain he’s been through. 

Once inside the elevator, they break apart. Relief and adrenaline coursing through their veins. Karen reaches for Frank weakly, she wants to comfort him. But how do you comfort someone when you need comforting? 

Slowly they face each other and grabbing his arm, Karen rests her forehead against his. He’s covered in blood, and she doesn’t care. She’s never cared. This touch is all they can do. No words will suffice. 

She knows, so does he. 

Frank climbs out the elevator, and again, Karen watches him leave. She knows his journey is not done. 

She can’t sleep that night. She’s worried about him, and there’s nothing she can do. She has no clue if she’ll ever hear from him again. She can only hope that he’s safe while he finishes what he set out to do. 

Weeks pass and on a whim, she puts the flowers in the window. Hoping the call will be answered.


	2. Is this the after you want?

For the next six months every time she gets a knock on her door, Karen’s heart jumps. She’s hoping the flowers will bring him to her. 

The first knock, after her careful placement of the flowers, is only her neighbor. They had a simple question, if her water was working. They’d been having trouble in their place. While they rambled about water pressure and leaky faucets, Karen was trying to calm her heart. She felt silly for being so disappointed. 

Surely, she would know if he was dead right? So, if he’s alive why hasn’t he reached out? 

The next time someone darkened her doorway, it was Foggy. They were long overdue for a friend date. This time she really felt silly, she knew Foggy was coming over. Plans had been made weeks ago. 

“Oh?” Foggy laughs, “were you expecting someone else?” he turns around pretending to look for someone behind him. 

Karen shook her head ‘no’ with a laugh, “let me grab my coat.” 

Thankfully he didn’t pry or even bring it up. She didn’t have the stomach to tell him that she was hoping the Punisher would stop by. 

Days and weeks passed, and she stopped expecting to hear a knock. 

That didn’t stop her from keeping flowers in the window. 

She bought fresh white flowers every week. They made her think about him, and she liked the smell. Her life is chaos, but she never forgets to water the flowers. Deadlines, articles, sources, books, the latest story on the news all have her attention. Clothes get slept in, hair gets tossed in a bun when she doesn’t have time to shower. But she never forgets the flowers. 

The news is her job. But the longer it goes without hearing from Frank, the more she expects to see his face plastered across the news. And she really won’t be prepared for that. She can just imagine his bruised face on every TV screen, celebrating the arrest of the terrible Punisher. 

Karen prays that day never comes. 

She’s lost too many loved ones already. Her family, and dear friends. Frank feels like family, and he feels like a dear friend. She doesn’t know what he is to her, but he belongs in the same breath as the others she cares for. 

On the anniversary of her brother’s death, she buys flowers for his grave. They are not white, and in her grief, she forgets to buy Frank’s white flowers. 

A couple days pass and the flowers on her window sill have begun to wither away. More petals are dead on the sill than on the stem. What had once bloomed has now withered. The water is old and Karen can’t find herself to empty the vase. 

‘Frank’s not coming,’ she thinks. 

But she still doesn’t remove the dying flowers from her window. 

Another late night at work keep her mind busy and distracted. She grabs takeout from the restaurant around the corner from her place. With her hands full of food and papers, she fumbles with her keys as she walks up the stairs. She almost bumps into someone, because she wasn’t watching. She greets her neighbor when they exit their apartment. She sighs with relief when she slides the key into the lock. 

Almost dropping her food, she sets her purse and keys down. 

She clicks on the tv when she walks past it. It’s a Friday night and she has to work, but she at least wants to watch a little tv while she eats her dinner. Karen makes a point to change into something comfortable, her bra comes off and so do her heels. A comfortable t-shirt, yoga pants, and socks are her wardrobe.

Sitting crossed legged on her couch she dives into her fried rice. 

Then she hears the soft tap of a knock on her door. 

For a tiny second, Karen thought it was on the TV. But when she heard it again, she stood to answer it. 

The first time in months she didn’t wonder if it was Frank behind the door. 

“Hey Karen,” Frank’s voice was quiet, but he smiled. 

“Frank!” Karen gasped. Her eyes widened, her appearance was not one she wanted him to see. Especially after so long. Her hair was a mess and she’d already taken off her makeup. 

And Frank, he looked fantastic. Not a cut or bruise on him. He had a short, trim beard. His hair was long enough to have a slight curl to it. The sleeves of his navy blue Henley were pushed up to his elbows. 

“Ssh, it’s Pete now,” Frank smiles. 

“Pete?” Karen laughs. “What am I doing? Come in!” She holds the door open for him to enter. He nods his head and follows behind her. 

Quickly she grabs a sweatshirt to throw on, and a ponytail holder to put up her hair. 

“Workin’ hard?” Frank nods at her unopened laptop and folder of papers. “Hope I’m not intruding.” 

“Nonsense Frank, I’ve missed- been worried about you.” 

“I wanted to reach out sooner, but I needed to wait, for your safety.” 

Smiling, she reaches for him to get a hug. Just like the last hug, this one is one of relief. She’s happy he’s alive and that he’s come to see her. And how wonderful it feels to hold and be held in his arms.

“So, ‘Pete,’ what do you do now?” Karen asks when she pulls away.

“Startin’ over I guess. Ya know Karen you don’t have to play reporter, eat your dinner.” He nods his head in the direction of her food on the coffee table.

She shakes her head, but he’s right. She’s been asking questions non-stop when he walked in. It’s after 9pm and she’s just now getting to sit down to eat. 

She nods and takes a seat on her couch. Taking a bite of food, she almost blushes under his gaze. He’s drinking her in like she is drinking him in. 

“I’m going to ask one question,” Karen takes a sip of her drink.

“Fire away Miss Page.” Frank replies. He walks over to the window.

“What brings you here after all this time?”

Thinking of how to answer, he pauses. Slowly, he rubs a petal between the pads of his fingers.

“Saw these,” the petal threatens to fall, but he won’t let it.

“I left it hoping you’d come by.”

Frank turns to look at Karen. She sees his fingers twitch. Slowly he moves towards her on the couch. Kneeling, he looks up at her and takes a deep breath.

“I stopped by every couple of weeks. When I knew you weren’t in trouble…”

“Frank?”

He reaches for her and rests his hand on her neck pulling her close. Karen feels his breath on her face. He’s so close. “I can’t imagine my new life without you.” Their foreheads touch for a long time. Another understood gesture. They’re all each other has left.

She blinks back tears and leans up a bit to close the gap. Frank is the one who presses his lips to hers. It’s soft, but the kiss is hungry. 

“Wait,” Karen pulls away, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “I can’t.”

Frank takes a step back and starts to stumble over his words in an apology. 

“No, Frank, Frank wait,” she grabs his arm. “I didn’t want you to kiss me while my breath smelled like a Chinese restaurant.” 

The look of relief washes over his face. 

“Give me one second,” she holds up her pointer finger, Frank nods with a shy smile. 

In a flustered panic, Karen dashes to her bathroom to brush her teeth. She brushes them, but leaves the water running, while she rifles through her hamper to find a clean bra to put on. The first one she finds is her only sexy bra. It’s bright red and lacy. ‘What the hell,’ she thinks and throws off her sweatshirt and t-shirt to clasp the bra on. She puts those shirts back on and takes her hair down to brush it a little before putting it back up. 

Then the sink makes a sputtering sound, and the water turns brown, then stops running all together. 

“Shit!” she gasps louder than she meant to. 

“You ok Karen?” Frank calls to her. 

Then Karen remembers what the neighbor said about the water, but she can only remember part of it because she wasn’t fully paying attention. 

Flustered, she turns off the water quickly. She turns to see Frank standing the in the bathroom doorway. Concern is all over his face. The sink in the last thing on her mind, right now there’s that familiar ache in between her legs. Her heart is beating so fast. Years of unresolved tension waits to be answered. And he’s standing right there.

He looks so big in her tiny bathroom.

Taking one step forward, she reaches for him. Her hand rests on his bicep. Her eyes flick up to meet his. 

He waits for her, and when her hand moves from his arm to his chest, he reaches for her. Karen feels his heart under her hand, and she leans into his hand cradling her face. 

With a deep breath before the plunge, Frank captures her lips. She sighs into his mouth, and his fingers tangle into her hair. He pulls the ponytail holder out and she bunches his Henley up in her fists. He pulls her out of the bathroom, and turns her until she touches against the bed. 

Laying on top of her, they kiss heavily. His beard slightly brushes her skin, his fingers dig into her hips. 

Gasping when they break, Karen looks up at him. 

“Tell me you’re real and not a dream.” 

“You dreamed bout this before?” Frank raises an eyebrow. 

It’s real. So is that growing ache between her legs and the feeling of his weight on top of her.

Sitting up, Karen takes off her sweatshirt, she leaves on the t-shirt for now. She pulls him back down on top of her and they continue to kiss. She’s spent so long wondering what his kisses were like she wanted to enjoy that. This time Frank slipped his tongue in her mouth. His hand felt warmer on her hip now that her sweatshirt’s off. 

Her fingers dug into his hair. It was just long enough she could tug on it. Tugging on it gently, he moaned. He seemed to like the gentle tugging. She moved one hand to his cheek and felt his beard against her palm. 

Suddenly Frank’s hand felt really warm, he’d slid it under her shirt and was resting on the bare skin of her hip. 

“Take it off,” Karen sighed talking about her shirt, and he obliged. When his eyes saw her red bra, Karen flushed. Maybe it was too much. 

“Is that what you were doin’ in there?” Frank teases and peels off his shirt. 

Her bedroom is still lit, and in the light she can see the scars that litter his torso. His abs and chest look just like she’d imagine they would. But it tugged at her heart to see the scars. 

“I never forgot what you said, about being lonely,” Frank looks at her. He was serious. “I was lonely, but I was never lonely with you. Maybe this can be the after that you want. Is it what you want?” 

His question, and seeing his scars suddenly made her remember what was about to happen – and who he is.

Karen reached for his belt, but with both hands he grabbed her wrists. 

“Tell me Karen, is that what you want?” 

“Shouldn’t this be indication enough?” But then Karen feels guilty as soon as she says it. Frank’s had so much heartache and disappoint, he probably needs to be told. He trusts so few people, and he’s about to trust her intimately.

His eyes are pleading with her to give him an answer. 

“It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time.” 

With the simple answer, the rest of their clothes are shed. Karen’s food and due article are both forgotten. 

Both of them are a little nervous, but Karen couldn’t tell the way Frank touched her. Who knows how long it’s been since he’s touched a woman. Karen puts the thought from her mind, she doesn’t want to feel guilty about Frank’s wife right now. 

Frank’s hands are all over her, teasing, squeezing, caressing. Her hands are permanently glued to his back. She doesn’t have the brain power to move them anywhere else. Especially when Frank’s beard scrapes against her neck and chest. It scrapes in places Karen didn’t know she needed. 

Her mouth seemed to stay agape unless he kissed her, because every touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her. He mapped out her body with his mouth and hands. He sucked a hickey on her sternum, and marked her fair skin. Her body had more red marks than his did when he was done. 

He took care of her, and once the highs were over, Karen flushed wondering what Frank was like after. 

She’d told him she wanted an after for them, and now she was wondering about the post sex after. 

Hopping up, she grabbed his Henley off the floor and went into the bathroom. Her cheeks reddened when she saw all the red spots on her body. She’ll have to get him back next time. 

Next time. 

There would be a next time wouldn’t there?

Frank’s Henley brushed the tops of her thighs. Smiling at Frank, she curled back under the covers to cuddle with him. 

Can she say cuddle when talking about the Punisher? 

He held her tight and sighed deeply in content. Light kisses peppered her face.

Her stomach growled, and Frank snorted out a laugh. 

“Won’t hurt my feelings if you go finish your dinner,” Frank whispers into her hair. 

“I have to finish that article too,” she groans and presses her forehead against his chest. 

She really doesn’t want to get up, she wants to enjoy the after. The gentle caresses and soft kisses. But duty calls and Frank understands.

“Ok,” Frank takes a deep breath and slides out from under her. Karen sits up confused. Frank pulls on his shorts, and tosses Karen her underwear. “Let’s go.” 

He walks into the living room, a still confused Karen follows him. He points to the couch, “sit.” He hands her the laptop and the folder of papers. Frank grabs her food and opens cabinets until he finds a plate. He pops that into the microwave and turns on the coffee maker. 

“What’s this article about?” Frank asks leaning against the counter. “it about me?” he teases. 

Karen explains while Frank pulls her food from the microwave. He pours himself some of the coffee and joins her on the couch.

Resting her hand under his chin, she puts the forkful of rice into his mouth. He helps her focus on her writing, while he sips his coffee.

“Chinese food and coffee?” Karen wrinkles her nose.

Frank raises his eyebrows and he opens his mouth to make a sarcastic comment when Karen just snorts a laugh.

When she gets going on the article, Frank excuses himself to take a shower.

“The sink doesn’t work,” Karen tells him as he walks off.

“Want me to take a look?”

Karen smiles, she tells him where the tools are located. She types away at her article and can hear some clanking around in her bathroom. After a few moments she hears the shower water running.

That means he fixed the sink. One job done, and he can move onto the next task.

Of course, now her mind is wandering to what he must look like in that shower of hers. She can afford a break can’t she?

Slowly, she tiptoes towards her bathroom. She’s sneaking around in her own place and she laughs at herself silently.

Steam from the shower curls under the door, it’s slightly ajar.

Taking a deep breath, she strips and steps into the shower with him. He doesn’t look surprised in the least, in fact his smile tells her that he’d hoped she’d come.

“Don’t say it,” she laughs.

“What that you’ve got an article?” His eyes are full of mischief, and she can tell he’s beginning to feel more and more comfortable.

It’s late when she finishes the article. And Karen’s grateful that Frank chooses to stay. Even if he was quite a distraction.

It’s about 3 am when they crawl into bed together for the night. Both too tired to talk. The famous iron grip from Frank’s arm wraps around Karen’s waist.

“This is the after I want,” Karen whispers.

He kisses the back of her head, Karen knows that’s his way of saying “me too.”


End file.
